


Tequila

by captain_sassy_socks



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Mild Smut, Tequila
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23965444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_sassy_socks/pseuds/captain_sassy_socks
Summary: “What do you want to drink?” Jack’s fingers drum on the solid wood of their preferred table in the secluded niche at the backside wall.“Tequila,” Sam replies after a moment’s consideration.
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 17
Kudos: 64





	Tequila

“What do you want to drink?” Jack’s fingers drum on the solid wood of their preferred table in the secluded niche at the backside wall.

“Tequila,” Sam replies after a moment’s consideration.

Jack raises an eyebrow. That’s quite an unusual choice. Before he has time to question her taste, she signals a waiter who arrives at their table promptly.

“Two cold beers, bottled, and two shots tequila, silver. Please.” The young man nods and takes her order without further comment.

Since it’s Friday, they decided to spend the evening at their favorite pub and unwind. It lies on the outskirts of the city where no politicians or military personnel travels to. One day, they found the place by chance and liked it instantly. It reminds them of O’Malley’s with the vintage interior and the down-to-earth crowd. There’s a pool table in one corner, much to Sam’s delight.

Nobody cares who they are and what they have achieved. Here, they can simply be Sam and Jack. Something they rarely are with him stationed in DC and her in Colorado Springs or, at times, exploring somewhere far, far away in another part of the galaxy. Long-distance relationship holds a different meaning for them. For Earth’s sake, they’re willing to make the sacrifices and treasure the rare moments they have in each other's company.

Sam leans back and examines his face in the dim light while he concentrates on the hockey game on the TV screen across the room. Nowadays, there’s a constant tiredness etched into his face, she never saw at the SGC, not even when he was the base commander. His skin is paler, missing the sun-kissed complexion from all those years exploring off-world. Slowly, his hair turns from silver to white, whereas the hairline recedes. And he has gained a few pounds around the middle, accentuating his love handles, which he conceals with shirts at least two sizes too large.

In her opinion, he’ll forever be the sexiest man alive. His brown, expressive eyes raise her heartbeat every time he gives her his unique O’Neill look, an unguarded glimpse into his vibrant soul. A playful smirk around his lips sweeps her off her feet whereas a boyish grin dampens her panties. He shamelessly uses his weapons array to his advantage. She doesn’t mind since she has her own ways of driving him wild and crazy.

Absent-mindedly, her thumb draws lazy loops on the material covering his inner thigh.

His lithe lips always leave a trail of tender devotion on her body whenever he peppers her with his love. By now, every square inch of her flesh has been explored and branded. Still, she can’t get enough.

His strong jaw spots a five o’clock shadow. She favors the scruffier look he often sports at the cabin. The wonderful feeling of rasping his prickly cheek along her inner thighs has the amazing ability to blank her mind and elicit a surrendering moan from her. On top, she imagines his elegant nose brushing against her bundles of nerves while she traces the shape of his straight eyebrows repeatedly or remains idle at the prominent scar. As he feeds on her, she relishes in running her fingers through his silken hair, pulling, pushing, and guiding his movements, inexorably spiraling toward her climax.

Sam blinks a few times and halts the derailing train of thoughts as the flame of arousal flares up. A flush creeps up her face.

So much for a quiet evening out in town. They should have stayed home. As lovely as this place is, right now, she craves his face buried between her legs.

“See something you like?” he asks, amused, while his attention stays with the game.

Sam clears her throat. “You know, I do.” She leans in and places a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth, which barely takes the edge off.

Their love is different, has always been. It’s not this all-consuming, brightly burning, passionate version she dreamed about when she was a teenager and binge-read romance novels. There’s no need for a ripped hero to save the scantily clad damsel in distress with the perfect flowing hair. Instead, it’s mature, grounded in years of working side by side, and based on trust. They complete each other, body and mind. Their bond was tested several times and still survived, despite some misguided attempts at other relationships.

Granted, ardent longing constantly simmers beneath the surface and threatens to erupt at any given moment. After eight years of military regulations and constant denial holding them back, once they blew off the lid, there was no holding back. One pointed look is usually all it takes to rouse the beast of passion. The adventures between the sheets are terrific and extremely fulfilling. He’s the most talented and attentive lover she’s ever been with. Unfortunately, they can’t go at it like bunnies anymore, even if they wanted to. Advancing age and increased refractory limit him to one round, not taking his versatile fingers, mouth or tongue into consideration. But every once in a while, he behaves like an overeager bonobo.

Reclining, Sam snorts at the ridiculous image in her head.

Jack turns his head. Confusion and curiosity pass over his features. He opens his mouth to say something.

Fortunately, the arrival of the waiter saves her. After placing their drinks on the table, the young man retreats silently. Sam reaches for her beer and takes a long swig, trying to hide the rising heat in her cheeks. Jack’s fingers toy with the label on his bottle. His inquisitive stare lingers on her.

The detour into steamy dreamland has left behind a tingling sensation in her belly that demands some kind of release. In her mind, an idea forms, the ghost of a smirk flits across her face.Her index finger traces the rim of the shot glass. From beneath lower lashes, she asks, “Do you know how to drink Tequila Canadian-style?”

Baffled, he replies, “What’s the difference?” Last time he checked, there wasn’t one. Drinking tequila has a long-standing tradition with an established sequence; salt, liquor, lime, or - in today’s case - lemon.

“Let me show you,” she proposes and slides closer to him.

Intrigued, he holds her gaze and tries to gauge her intention. She has proven more than once that a naughty side hides deep within her. He’s nearly convinced that she bluffs because they’re in public when the tip of her tongue peeks out for a mere second and gives her away. Let’s see how far she’ll go. He nods in approval.

Sam’s fingers grip his chin. She takes the slice of lemon and wedges it between his compliant lips. “Don’t lose it! I still need it.” A droplet trickles down his chin.

Her fingernails scrape along his jaw and collect the sourly treat, which disappears in her mouth with a pleased sigh. His gaze darkens. She pushes his head to the side to gain better access to his throat. Leaning in, she inhales his masculine scent, a combination of musk and Old Spice. Wetness pools between her legs. Her talented tongue wets the area above his steadily beating pulse point.

Jack’s breath hitches, the muscles in his thighs tense.

Satisfied with her preparation, she grabs the salt shaker and dusts the glistening strip. Admiring her piece of work, she dips her head and attaches herself to his flesh, cleaning him with broad strokes. Her hand drifts up his leg until her thumb rubs along the seam below his zipper, tantalizing and insistent.

A rush of blood shoots into Jack’s nether regions. Unconsciously, he opens his legs further. His erratic pulse thrums in his ears like a crazed beehive. He bites down on his bottom lips to stifle a moan when he feels her teeth graze his skin. Overwhelmed by the need to feel her satiny skin, his impatient fingers find their way underneath her sweater and massage her lower back.

Sam shudders at the sudden contact. A wave of insatiable hunger rolls through her.

She locks her gaze with him and recognizes every emotion within her reflected. Love, devotion, and desire twirl in a dark storm. The intense sight leaves her momentarily breathless. She shuts her eyes and digs her fingernails into his groin. Jack hisses at the combination of pleasure and pain. Blindly, Sam fishes for the tequila and downs the shot with a shaky hand. The liquor burns its way through her and settles her nerves.

Pulled in by his hungry expression, her moist lips engulf the slice of lemon and extract the zesty liquid. With a provocative sweep of her tongue along his bottom lip, she scoops up every drop and sucks them all in.

A low rumble vibrates through Jack’s torso. Sam’s expert seduction has him on the edge of losing control. His pants tighten uncomfortably over his enlarged member while her relentless teasing continues.

Hastily, Sam removes the peel and seizes him in a fiery kiss. Lost in each other, teeth clash, tongues slide back and forth, and their blood boils. Her hand entangles in his hair and pulls him closer.

When her deft fingers cup and stroke him through his pants, she’s rewarded with a strangled groan. The power she holds over him makes her dizzy. She doesn’t care any longer about the fact that they’re in public for every passerby to notice. Her mind focuses only on one thing, him.

Jack clings to the last shred of his sanity. A highly decorated General and a virtuous Colonel arrested for public indecency is not a headline he wants to read in the newspaper tomorrow. He gathers all his mental strength and breaks the passionate lock. “Sam,” he pants, “I’m about to blow a load if you continue your torture.” His thumb smooths along her swollen lips. She’s a sight to behold with her flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. He wants so badly to lose himself in her and ravish her body. “Let’s go home.”

Sam nods and takes a few calming breaths to dim the buzzing in her veins. Unabashed, she leers at his bulge. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Jack narrows his eyes and growls, “One day, you’re going to be the death of me.”

**Author's Note:**

> That's an interesting variation on the theme of drinking Tequila.
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
